"And you are not leaving Paris, then?" she asked after a moment's pause.
"I cannot now," I answered.
"Then," she laughed, "the furrier's niece and Monsieur Broussel will meet again. Au revoir, Chevalier!"
And she was gone.
CHAPTER XXI
THE HOUSE IN THE PASSAGE OF PITY
The next day, about the time appointed by La Marmotte, I presented myself at Maître Barou, the armourer's, store. There was no one there except the old proprietor himself, and it was hard to say if he were Jew or Gentile as he stood behind the counter in the midst of his wares. I had sufficient excuse for my visit, and that was to purchase a breastplate of the pattern worn by the Queen's guards, in which I had been formally enrolled early in the day.
"Bien!" he said when I inquired for one, "I have one that will fit you, I think. It was bespoke by M. de Montorgueil——"
"But, perhaps, monsieur may have a voice in the matter."
"Probably; but as monsieur has not paid for it, and is at present lodged in the Châtelet on account of his escapade with Mademoiselle d'Estanay, we may let that objection pass." And Maître Barou chuckled.